Post by laura on Feb 1, 2010 16:41:46 GMT 10
Title: Practice Makes
Rating: PG
Length: 758 words
Competitor: Wyldon
Round: 1/A
Summary: Kel can't rehearse for the Queenscove wedding... Well, not alone.
--------
“All right,” Kel muttered under her breath. She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Just once more.”
Trying to force your body to perform moves that seemed both unfamiliar and embarrassing was quite hard, the lady knight was rediscovering. She said firmly as she moved:
“And, turn and turn and curtsey; step-hop, step-hop, and altogether again--”
“Mindelan, what on earth are you doing?”
The man’s voice cut across her word-for-word recitation of Neal’s latest letter. Kel froze, her arms still outstretched as if she were about to embrace someone. She let them fall awkwardly to her sides. “Dancing, my lord.” Her cheeks reddened; she had never felt so silly.
Wyldon arched one eyebrow. “In a stable? Midmorning?” His other brow raised. “Alone? Is this some sort of Yamani custom?”
Kel resisted the urge to put her face in her hands. “No, sir. I received a letter from Neal the other day about his wedding. You know how much he loves history. He apparently wants to ‘return to ancient times’ and dance ‘archaic dances’ at the celebration afterward. So...I felt I had to practice.” She smiled a little helplessly. “Badly, if I may say so.”
“Hmph,” Lord Wyldon said. “That was ‘The Honeycomb,’ was it not?”
At Kel’s nod, he looked skyward (almost beseechingly, as if for patience; Kel had seen that look associated many a time with Neal). “Queenscove would certainly think that dance from ‘ancient times.’” She swore she saw one side of his mouth quirk; perhaps it was just the play of slanted light among the sawdust particles floating between them? “That dance was developed at court and became quite popular when I was about nineteen.”
She couldn’t help but smiling then. “I’m sure you did a better job of learning it, then, than I am.”
He closed the space between them, offering her his strong hand. “You are forgetting the clap between the turns and the skips. Would you like me to show you?”
Kel carefully placed her fingers in his palm, feeling how the calluses of their hands rubbed together. He led her through the steps with the ease of long practice. Wyldon wasn’t the best dancer Kel had ever been with, but he was absolutely precise and matched that with no little grace.
She remembered her steps far better, even the complicated part where you had to arch your left arm over your head, meeting your partner’s hand, pulling the couple close in together.
As they turned in a steady circle, Kel dared to look for the first time into Wyldon’s face, and to her surprise she found it slightly flushed. From the heat? Kel wondered, but she knew that she was beginning to sweat and she was not the least bit hot...well, nowhere except her waist, where his hand kept hers pressed to her side, or her wrist, which he gripped delicately, or especially the brush of his strong sword arm across her roiling belly…
Neither realized they had stopped until Wyldon suddenly shook himself free of her gaze. He carefully let go of her hands and cleared his throat, saying quietly, “That’s all there is.” His voice was smooth as wine, as ever, but slightly deeper.
“Yes sir,” Kel agreed, unconsciously flexing her hands. Be still.
Wyldon took a step backward, toward the entrance of the barn. No doubt he could feel the curious glances of the horses, as she could. “I have to travel to Fort Greenleaf, to stand judge at a trial,” he said. “I left some documents I need you to look at on your desk.” He straightened his belt, an unconscious movement of his own, and added dryly, “I hope this was a most informative morning.”
“Thank you, sir, it was.” And, as he was turning to leave, she suddenly found herself saying, “My lord, one more thing,” (He turned back to her.) “The ‘Naxen’s Fancy Reel’--”
“I’ll return in three days,” Wyldon said. He looked as if he were about to smile. “Meet me here at dawn, and we may go over the steps. That one is...quite tricky. You need an...experienced partner to learn. Until then, keep practicing.” He inclined his head to her and left through the barn door, long legs carrying him quickly back to his escort of soldiers.
“Looking forward to it,” Kel said, though he was by then far out of earshot. But, she thought, by the looseness in his retreating shoulders and back, the lightness in his step… Perhaps, so was he.
Rating: PG
Length: 758 words
Competitor: Wyldon
Round: 1/A
Summary: Kel can't rehearse for the Queenscove wedding... Well, not alone.
--------
“All right,” Kel muttered under her breath. She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Just once more.”
Trying to force your body to perform moves that seemed both unfamiliar and embarrassing was quite hard, the lady knight was rediscovering. She said firmly as she moved:
“And, turn and turn and curtsey; step-hop, step-hop, and altogether again--”
“Mindelan, what on earth are you doing?”
The man’s voice cut across her word-for-word recitation of Neal’s latest letter. Kel froze, her arms still outstretched as if she were about to embrace someone. She let them fall awkwardly to her sides. “Dancing, my lord.” Her cheeks reddened; she had never felt so silly.
Wyldon arched one eyebrow. “In a stable? Midmorning?” His other brow raised. “Alone? Is this some sort of Yamani custom?”
Kel resisted the urge to put her face in her hands. “No, sir. I received a letter from Neal the other day about his wedding. You know how much he loves history. He apparently wants to ‘return to ancient times’ and dance ‘archaic dances’ at the celebration afterward. So...I felt I had to practice.” She smiled a little helplessly. “Badly, if I may say so.”
“Hmph,” Lord Wyldon said. “That was ‘The Honeycomb,’ was it not?”
At Kel’s nod, he looked skyward (almost beseechingly, as if for patience; Kel had seen that look associated many a time with Neal). “Queenscove would certainly think that dance from ‘ancient times.’” She swore she saw one side of his mouth quirk; perhaps it was just the play of slanted light among the sawdust particles floating between them? “That dance was developed at court and became quite popular when I was about nineteen.”
She couldn’t help but smiling then. “I’m sure you did a better job of learning it, then, than I am.”
He closed the space between them, offering her his strong hand. “You are forgetting the clap between the turns and the skips. Would you like me to show you?”
Kel carefully placed her fingers in his palm, feeling how the calluses of their hands rubbed together. He led her through the steps with the ease of long practice. Wyldon wasn’t the best dancer Kel had ever been with, but he was absolutely precise and matched that with no little grace.
She remembered her steps far better, even the complicated part where you had to arch your left arm over your head, meeting your partner’s hand, pulling the couple close in together.
As they turned in a steady circle, Kel dared to look for the first time into Wyldon’s face, and to her surprise she found it slightly flushed. From the heat? Kel wondered, but she knew that she was beginning to sweat and she was not the least bit hot...well, nowhere except her waist, where his hand kept hers pressed to her side, or her wrist, which he gripped delicately, or especially the brush of his strong sword arm across her roiling belly…
Neither realized they had stopped until Wyldon suddenly shook himself free of her gaze. He carefully let go of her hands and cleared his throat, saying quietly, “That’s all there is.” His voice was smooth as wine, as ever, but slightly deeper.
“Yes sir,” Kel agreed, unconsciously flexing her hands. Be still.
Wyldon took a step backward, toward the entrance of the barn. No doubt he could feel the curious glances of the horses, as she could. “I have to travel to Fort Greenleaf, to stand judge at a trial,” he said. “I left some documents I need you to look at on your desk.” He straightened his belt, an unconscious movement of his own, and added dryly, “I hope this was a most informative morning.”
“Thank you, sir, it was.” And, as he was turning to leave, she suddenly found herself saying, “My lord, one more thing,” (He turned back to her.) “The ‘Naxen’s Fancy Reel’--”
“I’ll return in three days,” Wyldon said. He looked as if he were about to smile. “Meet me here at dawn, and we may go over the steps. That one is...quite tricky. You need an...experienced partner to learn. Until then, keep practicing.” He inclined his head to her and left through the barn door, long legs carrying him quickly back to his escort of soldiers.
“Looking forward to it,” Kel said, though he was by then far out of earshot. But, she thought, by the looseness in his retreating shoulders and back, the lightness in his step… Perhaps, so was he.